


Repitition

by spitecentral



Series: April Autism Acceptance Fics [4]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: (and very minor angst), (for the second half of the fic anyway), 5+1 Things, Autism Acceptance Month 2018, Autistic Cassandra Cain, Cass-Centric, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Stimming, Written by an Autistic Author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitecentral/pseuds/spitecentral
Summary: Five times Cass stimmed, and one time she didn't.





	Repitition

**Author's Note:**

> ...so that one drabble a day thing really isn't working out for me, but on the plus side, I have a one shot now!
> 
> Okay, so two main things before we start:
> 
> 1\. I, uh, sorta suck at romance (a lot), but Cass and Steph are Very Very Gay for each other, and I honestly don't know how to write their relationship without romance? So yeah. And in case you're wondering why I skipped over the 'getting together part': that's what I suck the most at. Established relationships I can kinda sorta do, but getting together? I'm more likely to win a Pulitzer.
> 
> 2\. Speaking of Steph, I'm not as confident of her character as I'd like to be; I've read little with her (though I am making my way through her Batgirl series) and thus don't really know her. But I'm pretty sure I've managed to fib my way through it decently? If there are any grossly OOC moments, PLEASE let me know.
> 
> 3\. Warning for implied/referenced child abuse; it's not really a theme so I didn't think it was bad enough to warrant a tag, but this is a Cass-centric story, so I'm pretty sure you know what to expect.
> 
> 4\. Yes the title sucks, blow me.

**1\. Tactile**

All of Cass's earliest memories were of training. They were of fighting, dodging, and hitting. But there were also memories of the more technical kind. 

One of Cass's earliest memories was of taking apart a gun. 

She remembered the way her fingers ran over the cool metal as she dismantled it, a cold, methodical task that should not be giving her the joy that it did. But she was absorbed in it, her attention completely taking up by the little clicks that resounded when she removed the magazine, the pressure under her hand as she removed the spring. She was so absorbed in her task that she didn't hear David remove the safety from his gun.

Years later, Steph threw her a brightly colored cube. Cass looked at it, confused, as Steph grinned at her.

"That's a Rubix cube. It's super hard to solve, and me and Babs have a bet riding on how fast you can do it, so maybe do us a favor and play with it for a while?"

Cass raised an eyebrow and stared down at the Rubix cube. She moved a row. Click.

"Plus, I think that you'll like it."

Cass nodded, and moved the other rows. The flashing colors rotated, and the soft clicks vibrated under her fingertips, where cool plastic pressed down on them. Click. Click, click, click. 

When she finally looked up, it was because her cave had become so dark that she could barely see the colors of the cube by the light of her computer. She squinted through the darkness, and noted that Steph wasn't there anymore. She hadn't heard her leave. 

The scar on her shoulder burned, and she hastily set the cube aside. She practically ran out of the cave.

When she returned from patrol, the cube, of course, still sat there, in front of her computer. Resolutely, she turned away from it as she changed into civilian clothes, and she moved to leave.

Hesitated. 

The cube lowered awareness of her surroundings, just like the gun had done years ago, and she had paid with it in blood, then. But now, nothing bad had happened. Steph hadn't hurt her, would never hurt her, and she knew that the rest of her family wouldn't either. 

She turned back to grab the cube.

 

**2\. Vestibular**

There were many things Cass loved about patrol. She loved the fighting, of course, and she loved stopping bad guys. But she loved balancing on buildings almost as much. 

The first time Steph had seen that, she'd almost had a heart attack. 

"Christ, Cass," she'd hissed as she'd pulled her back. "You can't just stand on flagpoles like that!"

Cass looked down at the pole she'd stood on just a moment ago. It looked sturdy.

"Why not? Nightwing does."

"Nightwing's an idiot and also has literally been trained from birth to do so! You haven't!"

Cass raised an eyebrow. Steph groaned. 

"You know what? Forget I said anything. Just don't do it in front of my face, okay? I don't want to be responsible when Babs has to come scrape you off the sidewalk."

But despite Steph's worries, she was never in any danger. True, she wasn't as good at balancing as Nightwing, but she was still good enough to know when she needed to lean back. She loved the feeling of her body swaying in the wind, of being up above the sounds of traffic. But most of all, she loved the feeling of balance.

Balancing on a ledge required a special sort of positioning on her body that she couldn't get anywhere else. Her feet stood half on stone, half on air, and her legs felt the pressure of supporting her weight, with less ground to hold them up then they were used to. Her head felt light, and as she swayed, she could feel the motion vibrate through her body, relaxing her muscles the way nothing else could.

Plus, Steph looked really cute when she was worried.

 

**3\. Pressure**

The first time Steph landed on top of her was also the first time Cass realized how completely, thoroughly in love she was. It was in the middle of training, and Steph had tripped and tumbled on her. Her face was flushed, stray hairs had gotten loose from her ponytail, and the sparkle in her eyes was both embarrassed and mischievous and Cass was so, so in love.

Afterwards, Cass ended up in Steph's apartment more often then she slept in her own, and she discovered that there was absolutely nothing more soothing than having your girlfriend sleep on top of you.

Of course, there was Steph herself. She didn't snore, but she made soft, high-pitched mumbling sounds every so often, her skin was soft and squishy, and when Cass leaned forward, Steph's long hair tickled her noise and made her giggle.

But the pressure itself was also soothing; the weight pressing on her chest, pushing her into the mattress, was grounding in ways she hadn't expected it to be. She noticed that when she slept with Steph, she had very few nightmares.

"Maybe you should just stay here," Steph mumbled one day.

Cass pulled her closer, catching a whiff of strawberry shampoo, deepening the pressure on her chest. "Good idea."

 

**4\. Auditory**

When Cass moved in with Steph, she quickly discovered that she liked to sing. She sang in the shower, she sang on patrol, she sang while cooking, she sang while shopping, and she even sang in the morning, during the rare moments they were both awake. 

Cass also discovered that Steph couldn't hold a note to save her life. To this day, nobody could understand why Cass liked Steph's singing. "It's murder for the ears," Tim swore, and Barbara added "It once short-circuited my comm."

They were lying on the couch, their legs intertwined, Steph carding her fingers through Cass's hair, Cass snuggling into Steph's chest, a movie playing in the background, and Cass asked Steph: "Sing?"

Steph laughed, a soothing shudder through her body, and she hummed along with the movie's theme.

Cass pressed her cheek against Steph's chest, feeling the vibration run through, listening to her steady heartbeat, and sighed.

 

**5\. Verbal**

One of the biggest perks of knowing words was finding new ones.

"Bluish," she repeated again. "Bluish. Bluish. Bluish."

"New word?" 

Steph stood in the doorpost, rubbing her eyes sleepily, her hair sticking in all directions. It was one of those rare days that Cass had woken up before her, and seeing Steph's cute bedhead always made her wonder if she should make an effort to do so more often.

"Bluish," Cass agreed. 

"Hmm," Steph answered. "I need coffee."

Cass mimicked a stick breaking in her hands. Steph blinked at her, then groaned. 

"You touched the coffee machine again?"

Cass nodded. 

"Great. Fantastic. Just what I needed to start the morning."

"Afternoon," Cass corrected, walking over to the fridge. 

Steph waved her hand impatiently. "Morning for superheroes. And unless you give me some coffee right now, you are banned from sassing me."

In response, Cass got a large frappe out of the fridge. 

"Bluish," she said with a smirk.

Steph blinked. "Huh," she said, stupefied. "It has a bluish wrapper."

"New café around the corner," Cass explained as she handed Steph her coffee. "They're called 'Bluish'."

"Who names their café after a color?" Steph grumbled as she took a sip. Almost immediately, she spit it out.

"Right," she coughed. "Gotta warm it up first."

Five minutes later, Steph could finally drink her first real coffee of the morning, and she almost inhaled it. 

"Man," she groaned. "This is _good_."

"Bluish is good," Cass agreed. "It's a nice word."

"Hmm," Steph took a sip. "Bluish. Bluish. Yeah, it's kinda nice. Maybe we should go there more often."

Cass grinned widely. "Bluish," she agreed.

 

**+1**

"So, have you solved the cube yet?"

Cass blinked and paused her movements. She hadn't heard Steph or Barbara approach. 

"What?"

"Steph asked if you've solved your Rubix cube yet," Barbara repeated. 

"Solve?"

"Uhm, yeah? Remember? Me and Babs have a bet on it."

"You never... told me how to solve it."

There was a pause in the conversation, before Steph slapped her hand against her forehead. "Oh my god," she mumbled softly. "Oh my god."

"You seriously just gave her the cube?" Babs asked, eyebrows raised like she was trying to be strict, but the corner of her mouth pulled upwards into a smirk.

"I thought it was obvious!"

"How do I solve it?" Cass asked. 

"You need to get all sides one colour," Babs explained. Cass frowned. 

"That's all?"

"Yes."

Cass stared at the cube. "And how long should that take me?"

"Steph bet a week, I think three days."

She looked up, confused. "That long?"

"It's very difficult."

"It's not. Watch."

And before either Steph or Barbara could react, Cass had taken the stickers off the cube and put them back on so that the cube was solved. She grinned up at them, proud.

"Tada."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the lame ending, but I really wanted to work in Cass solving the Rubix cube in the most autistic way possible. No, really. Like, a good 75-80% of the autistic people I know (including myself) had this as their first instinct when asked to solve a Rubix cube, and I think that's beautiful.


End file.
